


Roses

by sadfuckboy



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Breakup, F/F, Hurt, getting over someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 00:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8423827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadfuckboy/pseuds/sadfuckboy
Summary: A paranoid and heartbroken girl sees the love of her life in flowers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I haven't posted, writing is a lot harder that drawing for me.  
> So yea, I needed to get this off my system, just imagine any pairing you want.  
> Insp for this story: http://ahududurecelim.tumblr.com/post/138162495274
> 
> This isn't really any fandom material, but since I brought that up I do have some things in progress:  
> -I have this Xiumin/Baekhyun fluff in progress  
> -and then this kinda fairytale/child's story aesthetic Jungkook story.  
> Not sure when I'll finish them since I'm trying to do NaNoWriMo this year, so it'll take my whole next month, but we'll see.

The asphalt is so dry. It hasn’t yet crumbled down in it’s thirst. Morning knocks at the door but the fog stays on land as I walk forward on the streets. The wind hits my bare legs and taps the hem of my skirt. The night is calm and glammy. Recently, most of the time.. always.. my mind is like that too, it stands still like a deer stuck in quicksand. Thoughts are vague creatures that barely exist to me.  
And so, like the streets. My mind is empty.  
But truly, it feels good. It feels like the best thing i could have. It is the best thing I could have. sweet, blessed ignorance.

 

There’s a phone booth on the side of the road. A red one. With an ever waiting door and a small, depressed phone. It stands even more still than my feelings.

 

I gaze towards the red box, this time with meaning. Creating an action I regret on the spot. Because in the booth I can see something.  
Inside, behind brown tinted glass,lays a single red rose. 

 

It snaps me.

 

Rage fills me and I storm to the booth. I try to rip the door open but it doesn’t give up right away. I pull it frantically and just as tears start to form in my eyes the door gives in and lets me stumble close to the phone. I grab the rose in my fist, ignoring the spikes that pierce my skin.

 

The dry, innocent rose crumbles to pieces under my feet. So do my lungs. I stomp and breath escapes with my sanity. It’s almost comical how the fog stays calm and quiet while I hyperventilate and try to catch the air that runs away. 

 

Then finally. Red faced, panicking and exhausted. I breathed in and out on the empty streets. 

 

Why are you doing this to me?

 

I know it’s you. Doing this on purpose. Coincidence does not exist.

 

Roses. Everywhere I go.  
Suffocating, surrounding me like oceans of water would.  
I cover my eyes. Run down the street. Avoiding the roses tucked in street corners and sewer entrances. They won’t leave me. You won’t leave me. 

 

Is there a place where this sanity, this sadism, ends? Which one of us is the reason? No. It’s no question. It’s you. It’s only you. It’s you who still holds on. It’s you who hasn’t let go.

 

The road seems to soon run out. Lost in burning thoughts I seek peace from an off-placed gas station. I stumble and hit the glass door before pulling and entering. 

 

Steps wobbly. Mind shaking. I wonder towards an aisle. 

 

People look, they stare. But it’s not the first broken heart in a huge city. So no one is shaken. They only observe.

 

That is, until my steps stop. They suck air into their lungs before I even touch the ground.  
And so, I crumble to the floor. So many thoughts had tried to kill me at the same time that my mind had shut down. I didn’t faint, I just couldn’t get up nor move.

 

My hastily picked jacked tickles my neck but I can’t feel a thing. Faint, almost none existing waves move in my mind. Before my eyes blur and lose their signal completely, I see a cereal packed. 

 

I’ll just stay here…….. lay down for now… 

 

…...why is the floor wet….. why is my face wet…

 

…………why am I still even here………………………………………………………………….

 

……………...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Darling?”

 

..is something happening… 

 

“Oh darling, it was love, wasn’t it?” 

 

What a soft voice.. It tickles in my ear. Knocks politely to be let in my brain. Waits patiently.  
It carries the feeling of understanding…..

 

The noise really tries to reach me ….and quite quickly, the suffocating blur bops away like it was made of bubbles.

 

My eyes open, I see the barely recognizable letters talking about sweetness again. oh.. It’s the cereal… I’m in a store… a simple and small store... I still exist. 

 

My senses fight to grow back to existence, I feel a warm presence somewhere close, but not too close. A respecting distance. 

 

Curiosity comes next. I might as well entertain life for a little longer. I actually want to see this one. So I turn my head. 

 

An old lady stares at me. She’s somehow melancholic. It somehow doesn’t feel weird. 

 

There’s a lost of words, each of us waiting for the other.

 

Time keeps moving on, like it was trying to leave the silence between us. Awkwardly sneaking towards the door like a lawful teenager during a pot party.

 

A bell rings by the door. Someone coughs.

We catch up time again and force it to try our tear soaked drugs.

 

Or so, I get up to sit and stare, confused. What did the lady have for me? 

 

But then I nod. There really was no reason for hesitation. At this point I was ready to grab onto any string let down for me. And because yes, YES, It was love.

 

It was love that brought me so high up that falling had meant permanent disabilities. 

 

The old woman smiles apologetically. “I could see it in your eyes. I remember when those eyes stared back at me from the mirror. Oh lovely dear, I’m so sorry.” She smiles and slowly sits on a stool next to the shelves. It could be seen it brought her difficulties.

 

“It’s never easy. When A person who’s your life and the stars on your sky leaves. After that even the sky feels like a lie. I’m sorry for being so bold. But I remember the feeling you have behind those eyes. So I had to talk to you.”

 

Oh..

 

I stare back at her. Bewildered.  
Because I always thought no one could feel the way I do. The love we had was special, something only me and…. you .. had. Since the day I saw you, I carried the assumption that no one could ever know how those feelings ..or losing them.. felt. But on this moment, even after only a few words, I somehow felt that.. the lady I just met knows. 

 

I wasn’t sure what drove my thought process, but something made want to tell everything to the smiling stranger. I was like a small forest river roaming to the vast ocean.

 

I started to mumble.. since I had been so lost for so long, like a baby deer after the last summer with it’s mother. “She was.. to me.. that one love that was supposed to last forever. Uh, that… that once in a lifetime story… It was.. uh.. Her leaving was… it was like she took my remaining years of living with her. I might sound ridiculous, but I remember that she felt like darkest night sky.. and like..”

 

“..and like the softest morning dew.” the lady finished and smiled sadly. “It was like that for me and my lady too.. She was like a bold lion. I have never had anything more wonderful in my whole life and I have never lost anything as valuable as her.”

 

After those words, the greatly old grandma stared to the distance, something strong behind her glossy eyes. Years passed behind her unfocused pupils.

 

With a deep breath, she continued. “After it all came to an end, I used to see her in all the daisies. Every single one. She was everywhere. Always...”

 

“... with nowhere to run…” I continued, feeling like it was my turn. Then falling to a silence.  
Love is always different, but the lady and I, we shared pains that felt like sisters. Even when her’s was greatly old and mine felt stronger than anything.

 

I continued with a lost gaze. “I see my love in roses. She doesn’t leave me alone. She leaves them around. The roses. There’s no place where they do not surround me.” Pain held my voice in shackles, I sounded so desperate even to my own ears.

 

The old woman seems to own millions of smiles, none of them judging. She smiles, and once again it’s understanding, but she seemed to know something I didn’t. “Oh, little lady.. you know, when my love left… It was her exiting from the door, but it was me who was left in the house. Our love followed me everywhere, because back then I wasn’t skilled enough to leave it behind. You seem to lack the same I did back then. Not to say it’s wrong. But you must understand that the pain doesn’t need to be permanent. You are more than it.” She took a break to cough and catch her breath. 

 

“It’s true that I will never find someone else whom I’ll love as much as I loved her. And for so long I just aimed to exit the world. I know how it feels and I know how you see everything at the moment. But I must make you believe that I have something I value more now: I love myself. Since my second half left, all I could do was to fill the empty part with myself. Now I’m whole.” 

 

I was silent. 

 

As much as part of me wanted to understand it all and think that I was the same as the lady. I still thought that what I felt could not be cured. My stolen life wasn’t going to run back to me. You still were everything for me. 

 

My head hurts.

 

A weird situation hadn’t let to anything. All I got was the realization that you had no connection to me, and that from the both of us, it was me who is still stuck in the shadow of our love. 

 

My head really, really hurts. I tried to calm it down with my learned apathy.

 

My eyes follow the organized patterns in the white tiles and my mind circles slowly like a carousel.

 

I didn’t feel the same with the lady anymore. She was free of the shackles I carried and now only had the healed wounds to show. And sadly, those brought me no joy nor hope. 

 

You could say that I had gotten so distanced from everything that the concept of healing had completely disappeared from the world reflected in my eyes. During other times these thoughts would have brought me fury, but nowadays my mind wasn’t fast enough for that.

 

Even when I lightly realized that I was laying a blind eye to the lady’s journey. I just continued to think with ease that I was stuck.  
I didn’t even want to think about anything. That might have been the problem but that thought didn’t find power among the other creatures in my head, all those little people screaming your name. 

 

I guess the lady saw what I felt, I guess she was about to leave. 

Sad, I really needed and anchor. Just one more drop to seal my thoughts.

 

White noise.

 

Admittedly, when the old lady placed her hand on my shoulder, I flinched.

 

She searched for my eyes until her own ink drops stared right into mine. “Darling, moving on doesn’t mean forgetting, moving on means getting stronger than the memories.”

 

After that she got up. Once again so slowly that my mind got time to catch everything.  
I was suddenly thinking, listening.

 

I hated it all, but really, I wanted to change. Maybe.. even when the lady might not be the same with me, it wasn’t like her words only worked in her world. No matter how much you drift away, the core of everything stays.

 

So maybe.. she was right.. I always thought that this pain leaving would mean forgetting you. But maybe it was more about me remembering myself. 

 

There were many words and thoughts that lacked a place, lacked a meaning. But for now, I had something.

 

She looked at me one last time. “Stop thinking that love can only be stolen and not own.” And  
with that, she gave me that one last smile, one last couragement from a stranger.

 

With a fix of her jacket, the grandma wobbled away. I stayed on the floor, the cold knocking my bare legs and the hard floor lighly hammering my knees.

 

And well… there I was. Trying to catch it all. Her words, the pieces of my life that were still left, the whole absurd situation. And.. what to do next. Was the something I had enough to lift me up? 

 

The answer came in the form of a young boy serving as the shop’s cleaner,. He lazily leaned to the mop and signaled to me, voice indifferent.  
“I’m sorry miss, but I gotta clean this aisle, so yea,  
you need to move on.” 

 

And so, while feeling the whole meaning of that phrase in my shaking feet, that’s what I did.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this is a bit ugly. It stayed on my computer unfinished for more than a month and I tried so hard to pull it together but it's still messy.  
> I just wanted to finish it and ugh.. yea.. I'm going to watch a matpat video now.
> 
> But hey! I hope YOU have a nice day!  
> As always if you want my tumblr is @kohmettunutlapsi and you can come talk to me anytime. <3


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